


You Own Me

by SilverScaler3000



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock (TV) RPF, Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: (for SEVERAL nights), Abduction, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, BDSM, Banter, Canon Divergence - The Reichenbach Fall, Extremely Dubious Consent, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Non-Consensual Blow Jobs, Obsession, Possessive Behavior, References to Drugs, Virgin Sherlock Holmes, Virginity
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:22:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27941471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverScaler3000/pseuds/SilverScaler3000
Summary: “Extinguish my eyes, I'll go on seeing you.Seal my ears, I'll go on hearing you.And without feet I can make my way to you,without a mouth I can swear your name.Break off my arms, I'll take hold of youwith my heart as with a hand.Stop my heart, and my brain will start to beat.And if you consume my brain with fire,I'll feel you burn in every drop of my blood.”― Rainer Maria Rilke
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes & John Watson, Sherlock Holmes/James Moriarty, Sherlock Holmes/Jim Moriarty
Comments: 11
Kudos: 33





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, looked up creepy, obsessive quotes and got that. I think it fits, don't you?
> 
> Anyways, this fic is not for the faint of heart, so reader be warned. I wouldn't say it's TOO dark, but then again, every person is different. Either way, for the brave souls still here, I hope you enjoy!

Sherlock looked so enticing spread out on Jim’s sheets; hands cuffed together and restrained above his head. Jim had picked the cuffs himself - lined with a delightful purple fuzz to keep his dear pet’s wrists from being chaffed. His shirt had been removed, and his pale, marble-like skin was on full display. The consulting detective’s eyes were also covered by a blindfold, rendering him incapable of deducing anything within sight once he awoke. 

Despite knowing that would probably be relatively soon, Jim found himself growing impatient. It was so very tempting to start without Sherlock and let the man wake to find himself being ravished. Years upon years of built-up lust were urging Jim to take, take, _take_. 

There would be no fun in that, however. He wanted Sherlock to feel everything, every touch, lick, and caress. He would know each worshipful thought Jim ever had for him simply from the way his fingers toyed with his body. The consulting detective’s virginity may not come as a shock to those who knew him, but his anxiety towards sex was a secret Jim coveted dearly. He knew from the very moment he learned that delicious little fact, that he would be the one to open Sherlock’s eyes to the wonders of being so overwhelmed by bliss that it nearly broke him.

Jim licked his lips. He had waited a lifetime for this, he could endure a few minutes more. In the meantime, he’d enjoy simply looking at his sleeping beauty. When Sherlock woke, the real fun would begin.

He didn’t have to wait very long.

Slowly but surely, Sherlock’s breathing began to change. Jim smiled as the man started tugging at his restraints, clearly struggling to stay calm as he remembered what had happened. He was not yet aware of the very real threat standing beside him. 

Smirking, Jim leaned forward on the balls of his feet. The wooden floor creaked underneath him, and Sherlock’s head snapped sharply to the side at the sound. 

“Easy darlin’,” Jim cooed, reaching down and carding his fingers gently through Sherlock's hair. “Daddy’s here now.”

Sherlock went deadly still under his touch. “You're dead,” he finally said, voice steady despite the obvious tremor that, oh so very briefly, rocked his body.

Jim chuckled. How adorable. “Such an _astute_ observation,” he teased, fisting a handful of the consulting detective’s hair and giving it a firm, possessive tug before releasing it entirely. “Those nasty drugs must still be working their way through your system. My poor pet.”

Sherlock bared his teeth. “I’m not your anything,” he hissed.

“Everything in this room belongs to me, Sherlock,” Jim explained patiently. “Everything in this room, and in this building. Everything outside of it too. The world is mine, but _you_ ,” he crooned, “Are the only one who owns _me_.”

Sherlock was quiet for a moment, the gears twisting and turning in his head, clearly trying their hardest. “You sound like a cheap, Disney knock-off.”

Jim blew a raspberry. “Yeah, well, that’s love for ya, ain’t it?”

“Obsession doesn’t qualify as love, Moriarty,” Sherlock snapped at him, struggling pointlessly in his restraints. 

Jim frowned. “Oh do stop it, you know I would never tie you up in something you could easily get out of.” 

Sherlock seemed to concede to that point, ending his struggles and exhaling harshly from his nose. “Well, get on with it, then.” 

“Get on with what?” Jim inquired. 

“Clearly you aren’t going to kill me, everything would be much more dramatic-“

“Spoken like a true drama queen,” Jim interrupted him. Sherlock clenched his jaw, and Jim brushed the back of his hand across his cheek to soothe him. “So sorry, do continue.”

Sherlock flinched at the contact, but otherwise didn’t move or protest the touch. “You have covered my eyes, limiting my senses. It’s not that you don’t want me to know where we are - I have already narrowed it down to three different possible locations in which this could be. You just don’t want me to be distracted while you…”

He trailed off uncharacteristically. Jim sat on the edge of the bed, leaning down so that his face was inches from Sherlock’s. “Go on,” he ordered. “Finish your clever little deduction.”

Sherlock swallowed, his voice dead of emotion as he responded. “You’re going to rape me.”

Jim hummed softly, Sherlock’s reaction having been expected. “Rape is such a dirty word. You can relax, pet. As tempting as you are, Daddy’s not gonna stick his cock in your little virgin hole. Not today.”

He leaned closer still, brushing his nose against Sherlock’s neck and inhaling his natural musk. Not satisfied, Jim ran his tongue up and behind Sherlock’s ear. Sherlock shuddered beautifully, a barely contained whimper catching itself in his throat. 

“I am gonna worship every inch of your body,” Jim breathed, “Until that beautiful mind of yours short circuits from the pleasure.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be posting the second chapter up on Saturday, and the last one on the Saturday after that. Hope y'all are excited as I am! Read ya later!!!


	2. Chapter 2

Sherlock stilled. “No,” he said, fear creeping into his voice.

“ _Yes_ ,” Jim said, giggling at how quickly the consulting detective had gone from being so emotionally withdrawn at the idea of his own deflowering, to being so beautifully distraught. It wasn't the emotion Jim was angling for, mind, but his darling Sherlock looked stunning all the same. "Finally getting the picture, pet? This isn't about me, it never has been. No, it's all about you, my pretty little virgin."

It was laughable, really, that Sherlock thought he could handle being raped, yet was beginning to show signs of breaking now that he knew about the wonderful things Jim had in store for him. It was a variable he could never have predicted, being forced to enjoy sex.

Years ago, when the consulting detective was a mere teen, he had gotten himself well in over his head while attempting to solve a triple homicide. Far from the safety of his mummy and big brother, poor little Sherlock had been beaten bloody after being discovered where he didn't belong. But Sherlock had been hit, punched, and kicked before. What left him near broken, was what the man attempted to do next. Luckily for little Sherlock, the police found them before the brute could do more than pull the boy's pants down. Alas, the damage was done. 

Jim had, of course, long since ordered the man put down like the dog he was. Not because he was a criminal, a murderer, or a rapist, mind, but because he had touched what was _his_.

Sherlock, rather than let the incident break him - as Jim half expected it would - had used it to drive himself forward. Admirable to some, perhaps, but Jim knew better. Sherlock Holmes had merely taken his feelings and done what he always did; suppressed them. He placed himself above what had occurred, creating a mentality that it wouldn’t matter if someone were to attempt to use his body in such a manner again. 

Jim’s intentions were far from simply finding his own release, however. That incident had left his poor pet shaken and unable to handle any form of physical intimacy. That was going to be fixed, tonight. 

Sherlock began thrashing in his restraints, panic-stricken, and Jim frowned. That wouldn’t do.

“Shh,” he whispered, cupping Sherlock’s face in both hands and rubbing his thumbs along the man's cheeks. “Shh shh shh. I know, darling. I know how frightening it seems, being touched in ways you aren’t familiar with, _feeling_ things you aren’t familiar with. No matter the high and mighty attitude you portray, you're just a scared little boy on the inside, aren’t you?”

Sherlock visibly seethed beneath him, opening his mouth to say something. 

“Quiet darling, Daddy is talking,” Jim told his pet sternly, putting a finger against Sherlock’s lips. He was smart enough not to bite it, at least, for now. “Now, where was I? Oh yes! Your misconceptions regarding orgasms.”

A muffled noise, silenced with a tiny bit of added pressure on Sherlock’s mouth. 

“They aren’t bad for you, and you will come to see that,” he promised. “Tonight is all about letting go. I have watched you for so, so very long, Sherlock. Long enough to understand what you’re comfortable with. Well, sometimes one has to step outside their comfort zone to find something worthwhile.”

“ _Consent_ is usually what makes scenario’s like this ‘worthwhile’,” Sherlock hissed past clenched teeth and Jim’s still persistent finger.

Jim chuckled. “Consent requires control, which you know nothing of. Always following behind big brother’s heels like a lost puppy.”

“I do not-” 

“You do, love,” Jim interrupted. Sherlock’s mouth partially fell open in surprise at that particular endearment, and Jim took the opportunity to press his finger against the consulting detective's tongue, stroking it. “You’ve never had control, so why pretend otherwise? But I won’t abuse your gifts, not like Mycroft and his toy soldiers. I know you’ll enjoy what I have planned for us.”

He quickly pulled his finger back before Sherlock’s teeth could clamp around it. So predictable. 

“Naughty,” he scolded, moving his hand so that his now wet finger could gently knead and pinch Sherlock’s right nipple. “Behave, I don’t want to have to punish you.”

“This isn’t punishment?” Sherlock demanded, shivering as Jim blew cold air across his chest.

“Punishment for what?” he asked, watching avidly as Sherlock’s nipples hardened into stiff peaks under his attention. “We both know I loved having you pick apart my latest scheme.” He bit his bottom lip, moaning as he remembered how clever Sherlock had been. “You were brilliant,” he murmured, smiling dreamily. “Always are. I know how hard you worked, never allowing yourself a moment’s rest as you played my game. You deserve a reward for all your efforts.”

“Fuck off!” Sherlock shouted, wrenching his face to the side in a futile attempt to move away from him.

Jim frowned angrily, swinging his leg over Sherlock’s body so that he was straddling his waist. Sherlock twisted in his restraints pointlessly, trying to knock him off. Jim rolled his eyes, grabbing the man’s shoulders and forcing them down.

“Now you listen to me,” he growled as he dug his fingernails into Sherlock’s skin. “You’ve invaded my mind, Sherlock Holmes; my non-existent heart and soul. People are suffocatingly dull, but _you_ , you’re a breath of fresh air. A reason to keep _breathing_.” He leaned closer, lips brushing against Sherlock’s as he said, “Everything I have done, everything that I will continue to do, it’s all for you, darling.”

“Then let me go,” Sherlock pleaded, voice wavering as Jim licked teasingly along the seam of his mouth.

“I could,” he said with mock thoughtfulness. “But that would hardly be fair to that friend of yours poking my bum.”

Sherlock started under him, seemingly only just realizing he was aroused. Jim laughed in delight. “Classic Sherlock,” he chuckled. “Always knowing everyone else’s little quirks and desires, never recognizing your own.”

“It’s a psychological reaction to stimulation,” Sherlock reasoned, moving his hips in an attempt to dislodge Jim from his newly favored throne. “Get off of me.”

Jim grinned like a shark. “You’re saying it wrong, darling,” he teased, grinding back against the consultant detective's manhood. Sherlock’s breathing stuttered, and, to Jim’s delight, he could feel his cock growing harder. “I am going to ‘get off’, eventually, but not until you do first. I’m considerate like that.” 

Sherlock snarled. “You can’t-”

“I can and I will,” Jim corrected patiently. “Your body is already right on track, all that’s left is convincing your pretty little head. Come on, Sherlock,” he chastised. “You know as well as I do that I haven’t done anything up until now to make your pecker get so firm. It’s excited because it’s _me_ who’s promising to do all these wonderful things to you.”

“That’s not true,” Sherlock denied.

“Your body is so much more honest with me.” He began running his hands teasingly up and down Sherlock’s chest and stomach, enjoying the way the man's body spasmed. “You let everyone around you think you’re above sex, but that couldn’t be farther from the truth,” he purred, relishing the whimper Sherlock couldn’t contain as Jim thrust even harder back against the man’s cock. “I know it terrifies you, but don’t worry. Daddy’s going to make all the fear go away.”


End file.
